


Doe, a Deer

by SisterLoquacious



Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gen, M/M, Ronan's Magical Deer - Freeform, this is basically just crack
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-11
Updated: 2016-05-11
Packaged: 2018-06-07 18:47:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,542
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6819865
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SisterLoquacious/pseuds/SisterLoquacious
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Blue calls in a favor, Adam-the-Veterinarian visits Singer’s Falls to treat a wounded doe. Meanwhile, Opal teaches yoga to the masses.</p><p>AU where Adam never went to Aglionby, and Ronan's farm animals are all besotted. I have zero explanation for this.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Doe, a Deer

**Author's Note:**

> All knowledge of animal limps and deer anatomy comes from the first page of Google results. I am not a vet (nor American), and it shows. This is ridiculous and I have no excuse, but I'm not sorry for the title, tbh.

The lecturers in veterinary school had warned them that the job wasn’t glamorous, but nobody ever told Adam he’d have to deal with overly affectionate deer.

“How long has this been going on for?” Adam said, gently batting the doe in question away from his face. She kept licking uncomfortably close to his mouth.

He was—well, he was uncomfortably close to Henrietta, actually. He knelt in a forest clearing on the edge of a property in Singer’s Falls, which was lush and overgrown and absolutely nothing like the dry valley Adam had grown up in. It was only a short drive away, but it felt like another world.

Blue had called in a favor earlier that week. Now it was Saturday evening. He was further away from DC than he’d been for months, and closer to Henrietta than he’d been for years.

It was nice, he had to admit. He’d spent his adolescence longing to escape the country, and now he spent his working hours itching to get away from the District. The air in Singer's Falls was unpolluted by museums and Presidential blockades; the sun here was—well, he was outdoors to feel it. It hadn’t even taken that much cajoling, on Blue’s end, to get him to agree to check out her friend’s injured animal.

She hadn’t actually mentioned that it was a deer, though.

“She’s been limping for a couple of days,” said Blue’s friend, hovering just behind Adam’s shoulder. The hands stuffed into the pockets of his jeans projected disinterest, but the guy was radiating so much anxiety that Adam felt exhausted just being near him.

The guy—Blue’s friend—had introduced himself as Ronan Lynch, the blond girl doing yoga in the front yard as Opal, and the raven balanced on his shoulder as Chainsaw.

Ronan himself was a bit of a mystery. He wore dark clothes despite the summer heat, and looked like he should’ve been skulking the streets of New York or Chicago instead of living twenty minutes out from a shithole like Henrietta. Regardless, he seemed to belong there at the farm. His bare arms bore a tan that cut off halfway up his biceps, and his boots were covered in muck.

Still, Adam didn’t recognize him from his days at Mountain View. Ronan must have been a raven boy.

Adam _hmm_ ed, and the doe nuzzled his face.

* * *

According to Ronan, the affection wasn’t the problem.

Adam was inclined to believe him. When they had trampled their way from the eccentric farmhouse to the forest, no less than four cows had fallen into place alongside Ronan like besotted dogs, or animated songbirds. Ronan didn’t seem to notice. When they reached the forest’s edge he’d only paused to stroke their noses farewell before leading Adam through the undergrowth to the clearing.

No, the affection was apparently par for the course, in Singer’s Falls.

The problem was the doe’s limp.

Adam prodded at the doe’s hind leg, which hovered a few inches above the ground. He hadn’t dealt with deer before, but the basics were the same: check for muscle pain, check for lacerations. Reassure the owner that it’d be okay. Discuss surgery payment plans, if necessary.

The doe wasn’t bleeding, though. And she seemed the polar opposite of distressed, licking determinedly at Adam’s face. He couldn’t feel any swelling, or any obvious tears. When he gently pulled her leg towards the ground, it moved as normal; it was only when he let go that she tucked it back up again.

Twigs snapped as Ronan moved from out behind him, coming to a kneel at Adam’s side. They perched shoulder-to-shoulder in the clearing’s dappled sunlight.

Adam moved his hand from the doe’s leg to the length of her back, carding his fingers through her white coat. That was a bit weird, too.

When he looked at Ronan, the other man was frowning and fidgeting with faded leather bands on his wrist.

The air was quiet, but for the sounds of the forest and of Chainsaw rustling among nearby leaves.

Looking at Ronan, Adam found that he wanted to fill the space. He wanted to ask how he knew Blue, who had always hated Aglionby boys. He wanted to ask why such a handsome man lived so close to Henrietta, instead of as far away as possible. He wanted to ask how Ronan was related to blond-haired Opal, who had lazily waved Adam hello without breaking from her tree pose.

He asked none of those things.

“I’ll be honest,” he sighed instead, turning back to the doe. Her rear leg still hung in the air. “I mostly treat domestic pets, back in DC. Lots of dogs and cats. I’m not an expert with this sort of stuff, but I can’t see anything wrong with her leg ‘cept that she won’t put it down.”

Next to him, Ronan let out a long breath.

“That’s what I figured,” he said. His hand joined Adam’s on the deer’s back, stroking closer to her hind. Adam decided to scratch behind her ears; he was far too aware of the proximity of Ronan’s hand. “Opal told me she was fine, but Blue gave me your number, so.”

“Blue’s been trying to get me to come back for a while now,” Adam admitted, shifting his weight. “Two birds, one stone.”

“Please, not near Chainsaw,” Ronan smirked.

Adam looked away, smiling.

“I can probably get you the number of someone local who can take a better look at her,” he said. He stood, and Ronan unfurled alongside him, stretching his long arms above his head. “Someone who specializes in—uh, deer. Not me.”

“Don’t tell Opal people can do that,” Ronan said, leaning forward to pet the doe once more. “She’s like, the deer-whisperer. She’d feel usurped. She’s spent the past week out here, actually—“

Adam blinked at him. Ronan had cut himself off, and was now squinting back in the direction of the farmhouse.

The doe licked Adam’s fingers.

“That _fucker_ ,” Ronan swore.

* * *

When Blue pedaled up the driveway of the Barns later that evening, Adam was waiting for her.

Opal was waiting for her, too. She liked Blue, she said; Blue had a great fashion sense, and liked the environment, and ate more healthy stuff than Ronan.

“I don’t even like healthy stuff,” Opal confided, sitting next to him on the steps up to the front porch, “but Ronan says I can’t eat weird shit at school anymore, ‘cause he got called to the office one time I ate chalk.”

Now that he was closer, Adam could see that Opal Lynch had hooves.

He was mostly ignoring that part.

“Parrish!” Blue called cheerfully, dumping her bike next to a shiny BMW and Adam’s slightly-less-shiny hatchback. “And Opal! Aw, you’ve _met!_ ”

“Ronan had a conniption,” Opal said, sounding smug as she stood to hug Blue. “He found out about the yoga.”

“Sweet,” Blue said, releasing Opal. She turned to Adam, grinning. He stood, and promptly towered over them both.

“You didn’t say your friend had an injured _deer_ ,” he said, crossing his arms. “I could’ve really hurt her, Blue.”

“No you couldn’t have,” Blue said easily, then hugged him. When she spoke next, her voice was muffled by his shirt. “Opal just taught her the tree pose, nothing was wrong. I just wanted you to meet Ronan.”

* * *

On Sunday evening, Adam left Henrietta and Singer’s Falls behind.

He had a job back in DC; dogs to neuter, bills to pay, coworkers to eat overpriced salad with. The mundane life he’d longed for, when he was a kid in Virginia. He was helping people, and he was healing animals, and he was far, far away from the dusty trailer park he’d grown up in.

“Later, Parrish,” said Ronan Lynch, before Adam drove away from the Barns. “Thanks for coming. Even if the maggot tricked you.”

He was smiling, though, and his smile only widened when Blue shot him the finger.

“It’s not my fault you don’t know what your weird dream daughter’s doing,” Blue said, on the other side of Adam’s car. “You should’ve taken her word for it in the first place.”

“I’m gonna be a vet someday, too,” Opal beamed, beside her. “If _all_ animals learned yoga, less of ‘em would get hurt. I’ll show you how to teach ‘em, Adam.”

Ronan sighed dramatically, but when he looked at Adam, he was radiating pride.

“I don’t know if you know,” Adam said, “but your daughter has hooves.”

“Fuck yeah she does,” said Ronan. He made an aborted movement, before finally touching Adam’s arm. His fingers were warm against Adam’s skin, and his gaze was steady. “See you next time?”

Adam looked at him. He looked at Blue. He looked at Opal. He carefully avoided looking at Opal’s hooves.

“You’ve got my number,” he agreed.

Ronan smiled.

* * *

As Adam backed his car out of the driveway to the Barns, he caught a glimpse of several pure white deer at the edge of the trees. All three stood calmly, with a rear leg hanging several inches above the ground.

It didn’t look like yoga to Adam. Not the kind that Opal had been doing.

But he wasn’t an expert on deer, anyway.

**Author's Note:**

> ...idk.
> 
> As a side note, thank you to everyone who left kudos/commented on/bookmarked my last fic! It was the first thing I've completed for years, and I appreciated every bit of feedback so much.


End file.
